


First

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Series: Kink Kiss Kill 2020 [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: 31 day angst challenge main character death, Angst, First Person, Funeral Home, Gen, Grief, Mourning, does it count as main character death if the character is dead before the beginning of the story, wives mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: Link was never supposed to go first. As Rhett stands in a funeral home, he thinks about the way things should have gone instead.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin & Link Neal
Series: Kink Kiss Kill 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948897
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	First

I was supposed to go first.

That, or we were supposed to go together.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I can feel the tears welling in my eyes, and the urge to stay strong, to keep it in balls up tight inside of me. I know the knot in my throat, the way I suppress it and push it down. I don’t want to feel this ache, this grief, but I can’t help it. As I reach for Link’s hand, it’s too cold and too stiff. Too embalmed. His face looks all wrong too. They tried. The team at the funeral home did everything they could to make him look good, and that’s fine. I’m not knocking their skills. But no one can capture Link’s life. Especially not in his death. Even if they’d gotten his color right, his makeup perfect, none of it would look like my best friend, because there’s no movement. There are no lines where his brow furrows when he leans in close to a screen, focusing on his work. There’s no smile as he laughs at the stories I tell, or cracks up when he realizes too late that he’s said some sort of innuendo. Here, there’s no life in his face. It’s tearing me apart and I can’t hold back on the tears any longer.

“I wasn’t made for a life without you, Link,” I tell him, letting go of his hand and pacing the room. I tug at my long curls, now tinged grey just like the grey in his own hair, greys we grew together through late nights spent working on projects or coming up with new ideas or writing new songs and stories to share around the world. “I don’t know who I am without you. I’m Rhett and. Rhett and  _ what? Who?”  _ We’ve been a package deal, a group effort for so long, a pair, a duo, a twosome. How can I be just one? Just me? “Who am I without Link Neal?” I ask, and the silence of the funeral home viewing room doesn’t answer back. Link doesn’t answer back.

I was never supposed to survive one best friend, let alone two. Losing Ben wrecked me and I never thought I’d have to go through this again. “I’m older than you, man! I’ve got more health issues!” I can’t stop pacing. I have to move. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin. Maybe I am. Maybe I’ll crawl right next to him, into that casket and out of this world for a little while. “This isn’t fair.” I can’t take away what’s happening, can’t change the fact that he’s gone and I’m still here and I’m not sure what to do with that. Ever since we got that damn phone call, ever since I heard the words, my life has spiraled out of control, and I can’t contain it or get it back in one piece.

Things were  _ fine.  _ We were standing in the kitchen, Jessie and me, and we were dancing to our song and laughing, two glasses of wine on the counter. The moment was picture perfect, the kind of moment you see in a romantic comedy.

And now he’s gone. I remember the phone ringing, and I know that song coming on doesn’t make me think of my wife now. It makes me think of Link, of losing him, of Christy’s tearful voice on the other end of the line. I never should have taken that phone call. “It’s Link,” Christy said to me. Before she even got the rest of the words out of her mouth, I knew what she was about to say. I could hear the anguish in her voice and the fearful tremor of her, about to cry. “I was headed to bed and when I got up there, he—” I’m sure she said the words. I’m sure she said he was either dead or he was gone or he had passed, but I didn’t hear them. I didn’t hear exactly the words. I stayed strong enough to tell her I was sorry, that I’d be right over to help, but then I had to pass Jessie the phone because I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t be there when she needed me the way I’d promised.

I think I couldn’t because when I promised Link I’d take care of Christy and his kids if I outlived him, the way he’d promised the same to me, I’d never intended on having to follow through with that promise. “I don’t know how to take care of them!” I tell him. “I never thought this was going to happen.” I never thought I’d have to be the strong one for our giant, blended family. I never thought I’d have to be the one.

“I’m mad, Link.” I walk closer to his casket and stare at him. “I’m so freakin’ angry!” I tell him. “I’m mad at you. I’m mad you left me. How the hell could you leave me like this?” I can’t control the tears, or hold them in, or pretend they don’t exist. I’m aching, heart full of hurt. “I miss you, man.” This is the longest we’ve gone without talking, save for holidays. It’s the wrong time of year for me to feel this empty, and this time I don’t get to tell him all about what happened in the time we were apart.

Him being gone and me being here makes me wish for some kind of afterlife, some opportunity to catch up to him and tell him all about the moments he missed. “I can’t do this without you,” I tell him. “I was never supposed to.” I sink into a chair and fold my hands, the way we used to do in church when we were praying. I don’t want to talk to God right now. I want to talk to Link.

“Link, man. I know this is futile. I know that none of that shit, none of this… nevermind. I just want to talk one more time,” I say to him. “I just want a few more minutes. Are you happy where you are? Sad? Were we right? Wrong? I don’t even know anymore, Link. The world feels empty without you.  _ I  _ feel empty without you. Where do I go from here? I can’t have the company by myself. I can’t go on ahead. We’re two halves of a whole. Without you, I’m… it’s not the same.” He can’t stop crying, rubbing my face in my hands. “Why’d you go, man?” He hadn’t had a choice. It wasn’t like he’d chosen to die. Still, I can’t help but feel angry at someone or something. “Why’d you have to leave me here? It was never supposed to be like this.”

I don’t feel calm. I don’t feel his presence. I don’t know why I expected to. Jessie pokes her head in the room. “Rhett?”

“I…” I need more time. More time in this room won’t help. I need more time  _ with Link. _

“I’ll give you a few more minutes,” she tells me. That won’t help. That won’t fix it. That won’t give me what I need. But I nod, and I thank her, and I go back to sitting there, hands still folded.

“Who am I without you?” I ask him again, as if he’s going to sit up from his casket, tell me exactly who I am and who I need to be, and then lay back down. He doesn’t move, though. Not a twitch. Not a flinch. “Link.” I say his name with an anguish that’s palpable to even me. I can hear the hurt in my voice, and I’m glad I’m alone to say it. “I love you, man,” I tell him. I never said it enough. Could I have even said it enough? Is there a limit there? No.

I stand up and I walk to him one more time. I squeeze his hand and it’s still too cold, still too stiff. Maybe if I go to the office, the work house, his home, somewhere, maybe I can feel him better. I can’t feel him here. Not in this cold, dark, horrible place. Here, I feel him dead. I want to feel him alive. “I’m gonna come to you, man. Wherever you are, I’m gonna come to you,” I tell him. I don’t think that’s a promise I can keep, either.

Because I was supposed to go first.

Or because we were supposed to go together.

Because it was never, ever supposed to be like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, sorry I guess.
> 
> No beta, we die like men.


End file.
